poem

This Word Love
                           Raymond Carver
I will not go when she calls
even if she says I love you,
especially that,
even though she swears
and promises nothing
but love love.
The light in this room
covers every
thing equally,
my arm throws no shadow even,
it too is consumed with light.
But this word love----
this word grows dark,grows
heavy and shake iteself
and begins to eat
through this paper.
Listen.